Rapunzel (Faerie Tale Collection)

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Rapunzel (Faerie Tale Collection) Page 4

by Jenni James


  It was that simple.

  Be done with this all.

  Clutching the largest shard with her left hand, she held out her right arm and gave a sort of relieved chuckle as she placed her palm facing up. Taking the point up to the crook of her elbow, she forced it down, stabbing swiftly and eagerly into her flesh. She gasped in pain at the burst of blood that sprang from the wound.

  Wincing she bit her lip. It was time to finish it.

  Taking a deep breath, Rapunzel closed her eyes and heaved, attempting to gain the courage she needed to do this. It was over. This was the only way out of here. She would never see her family or dear Jonathan again. He would have found her by now if he were still alive, she was certain. It was all finally over. It was time to join them all.

  Nausea overcame her as she looked down upon her arm, with the sharp porcelain still clutched in her hand and protruding from her flesh. The pain was unbearable and the blood so sickening. Could she do this?

  Just then, she caught a winking flash of gold in the setting sun. It was peeking out from beneath her dress.

  She blinked and swallowed attempting to keep the fading lightheadedness away. The gold winked again. What was that?

  And then she knew.

  The necklace. The Balligryn pendant! Jonathan needed it or he could not become king.

  As if by a miracle, the strangest thought occurred. What if she were wrong? What if he was still alive and looking for her? And when he finally found the tower, Rapunzel would be dead and the witch would have his pendant!

  Jonathan would never give up on her. If there was breath in his body, he would not give up on her.

  She gasped then, inhaling huge, sharp, forceful breaths, as if she were truly taking her first real breaths of life. My great heavens! What was she doing?

  Snapping fully out of the fog of weight surrounding her, she removed the bloody shard from her arm and quickly closed the wound over with the skirt of her gown.

  Her breathing was so labored and loud as the shock of all she was about to do consumed her that she could not believe she had allowed herself to come to such a state. She, the most happy of all the princesses the castle had ever known, had allowed moroseness to consume her, consume her to the point that she nearly took her life!

  What a fool she had become. What an utter, complete, wretched fool.

  And then she began to sob.

  Big, heart-wrenching sobs.

  Sobs of relief. And sobs of disbelief. But mostly sobs over how alone and distanced from everything and everyone she felt. Slowly, the ebbing heaviness faded. There was a hollow in her heart—still that vicious ache—but the pain was replaced with a sliver of hope.

  A small sliver that did not grow overly large, but kept the worst of her thoughts at bay. For now she was alive. Now she had a second chance to continue forth and stay above her darkest moments.

  And soon she realized that when one was truly trapped as she was, that was the best anyone could expect her to do. Just stay a small step ahead of the gloom.

  HOURS LATER, IN THE dead of the night, Rapunzel was awakened by the lantern being lit. A few seconds after opening her eyes, she saw a large ball of fur land upon her bed.

  “Here,” said Lady Vactryne. “Hopefully he will help you enjoy your stay a bit more.”

  The ball unfolded itself to reveal a cat. A very frightened cat. It curled back and hissed at her before scurrying off the bed to hide.

  The witch laughed and then pointed to the food on the bed. “You had better clean that before I return tomorrow.”

  Rapunzel had a brief moment of panic as she spotted blood on the multi-colored coverlet. She quickly tucked her wrapped arm underneath her, but the woman did not seem to notice at all. Instead, she glanced around the room and shrugged.

  “Or, if you do not like the feline, and find that breaking my dishes is more to your liking, I suppose you can simply mope around here longer. The choice is yours, Princess. I really cannot control how you feel in this place. I can only see that you are taken care of.” She flipped her hand. “Good night. And you are welcome.”

  “Th—thank you for the cat,” Rapunzel said weakly, not sure the creature was any more thrilled to be captured and placed here than she was.

  With that, Lady Vactryne was gone.

  RAPUNZEL GOT OFF THE bed and walked to the washbasin, dragging the heavy chains with her. The cold water stung her arm as she cleaned the gaping wound as best she could. Another bout of nausea and lightheadedness overwhelmed her for a moment. She clutched the small table for balance as she became woozy. It took several moments before she felt strong enough to stand again. Then, ripping the washing towel into strips, she wrapped her arm much more securely and tied the bandage off with a knot. She washed her face and hands and neck as best she could and put on a new long-sleeved gown to hide her stupidity.

  She was not certain what the witch would do if she ever found out about Rapunzel’s foolishness, but she clearly did not ever wish her to know. After changing into the fresh gown, even though the heaviness in her chest was all consuming, she did feel a bit better. And hungry.

  Within minutes, the girl had eaten up some fruit she had found in a basket and bread the witch had brought earlier. Upon her last swallow, she was reminded again that her own parents would never eat like this and simply allowed the ache to continue as she cleaned up the broken shards and mess of food on her bed, floor, and a bit on her wall before she curled up on the covers and drifted off to sleep.

  “MEE-OWRR,” CAME THE SOFT sound below her.

  Rapunzel opened her wet eyes and peered over the edge of the bed. There was the cat. She smiled as the little guy began to lick his paw. It had already been three weeks since Lady Vactryne gave her the stubborn animal. Three whole weeks, and his own nonchalance and ignorance of her as a companion did nothing to squelch the ache she felt within her. In fact, he seemed to make it worse. However, each day she did try to get him to accept her.

  “Well, hello there. Have you finally decided to awake from your nap and grace me with your presence?”

  “Mrrow,” he replied while continuing to make himself look presentable.

  “You are a horrid cat—you know that, do you not? Always sleeping, never allowing me to cuddle you or hold you or do anything like a proper pet would.”

  He ignored her.

  She sighed and closed her eyes again. Her heart was too heavy to care about anything but her own misery anyway. It had been too long.

  No one cares if you are alive anyway. No one has come for you. No one has found you. It is over.

  The tears came again. As they always did when she got this way.

  Eventually, she cried herself to sleep.

  But this time when she awoke, the soft taste of fur was in her mouth. She pushed the silly cat away from her face, spitting as she did so, before realizing he was actually on her chest. Asleep. He had come to cuddle with her! Maybe the pompous thing cared more than he let on. Quickly, she scooped him up closer, not caring if the fur assaulted her again. And despite his mew of protest, he did not abandon her as she thought. Instead, he curled up tighter and purred quietly against her cheek.

  Rapunzel smiled.

  Later that week, she was rereading some of Jonathan’s letters, attempting to focus on the happier ones where he described his life and friends there at school. She loved his humor and the silly little things he found to share with her in their correspondence. How she missed him—his smile, his laugh, his torturously fun teasing. Even his handwriting, those bold, slanted strokes, was adorable and so very missed without new letters coming in.

  She rolled over upon her bed and closed her eyes, attempting to imagine what he would look like today. There were small fissures of remembrance that would flash in memory of him, but to combine what he once was with what she could imagine now was nearly impossible. Would he still laugh the same? Still have that adorable crooked grin? Still taunt her?

  The last letter she received from him ju
st before her birthday definitely hinted at the boy she once knew. She grinned at the promises he made for the ball and the surprise he had hoped to give for her birthday.

  And then for no reason at all, she began to feel sad again. Just when she believed she had found a nice mental place to stay for a bit, then came the agony of knowing she might never see him or anyone ever again.

  Rapunzel curled back upon her bed and wept and wept and wept. She even cried as the cat snuggled against her and wrapped its long, furry tail around her neck as a sort of hug. He must have known she needed him because he allowed her to wrap her arms around him and sob into the pillow with him pressed up against her. He even remained that way for several minutes until she eventually calmed down enough to sleep.

  A few days later, the cat jumped on the balcony ledge and gingerly picked his way up to her, his tail swishing in her face as he ducked under her arm and against her chest.

  “Well, hello there. Did you miss me?” Rapunzel chuckled and rubbed the stubborn beast behind his ears. He instantly began to purr.

  She grinned. “I am so glad you have decided to like me. It is much better this way.”

  His response was to butt her hand with his head, asking for more.

  “You know, I think I should come up with a name for you. Would you like that?” When he did nothing but enjoy her scratches, she continued, “How about something very robust and manly sounding, like Albert, perhaps?” She pulled back and asked again. “Albert. Do you like that name?” He stretched under her hand again, so she kept scratching. “Very well, not Albert. How about Shadow, or Midnight, or Hercules?”

  Hercules. She liked that one.

  “Never mind. I have decided not to give you an option. Your name shall be Hercules whether you like it or not.”

  He arched his neck to make sure she scratched him there as well.

  “You greedy little thing.” She continued to pet him for some time and then said, “You remind me of one of the stories I read in the witch’s book about a greedy prince who turned himself into a frog. Perhaps I should call you Nolan instead.” All at once, she began to hum a little ditty, a children’s rhyme she had learned ages ago from her nurse. After a few measures, it was quite easy to replace the actual words with new ones about the frog prince.

  So she humored herself by petting the cat and creating her own lines to the old song.

  “Prince Nolan wasn’t very bright,

  He made himself an ugly sight

  To show that his betrothed

  Was just as awful as he had supposed.

  But when he met the princess fair,

  His larks proved him the worst there.

  For Blythe was lovely to behold

  And the opposite of what he’d been told.

  He hopped around in his sorry state

  Falling in love and mourning his fate.

  He didn’t deserve a treasure as this,

  But to break the spell, he needed a kiss.”

  She was just getting ready to come up with another verse when some birds began to chirp with her, and so she sang the first three lines louder than before and then found herself giggling like a loon at the oddity of the situation. Almost as if she was happy. As if something wonderful was about to happen.

  JONATHAN WEARILY DROPPED FROM his horse, ready to take a much-needed respite after a long, hard ride that morning. So when he came to a brook he could not recall ever seeing before, he immediately stopped to catch his bearings and consult his map. After taking a long drink, he sat down and unwrapped the portion of dried meat and bread he had in his pouch and began to munch while he poured over the detailed map in his hand.

  Where was he?

  He had found many places that had yet to be located on the map he had, so he was not too overly surprised. However, it was an odd thing to find an actual water source that was not shown. Just as he was skimming past the last known ridge he had come across, he thought he heard a sound. A faint noise, like singing.

  It resonated much like the melody of a nursery song Rapunzel used to sing. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine his friend singing down from her tree house, her long, flowing locks of hair tumbling over the edge.

  It was the most vivid memory of her he had to date—her singing like this. So soft and sweet, as if the world were perfect. Almost as if she was real. As if she was there by him.

  And then the singing got louder.

  He dropped the map and sat up straight.

  Was that giggling he heard?

  JONATHAN QUICKLY JUMPED UP on the horse and followed the sound, praying that the girl would not stop singing until he found her.

  As they made their way closer and the sound increased, he was amazed at how much it really did sound like Rapunzel. It was too good to be true—it had to be! Turning toward a cluster of shrubbery where the sound resonated the most, he slowed the horse and picked his way through the overgrown vines and patches of the forest greenery. Suddenly he pushed aside the last of the fronds and stumbled into a large clearing with a tall, exceptionally high, tower.

  How long had this been hidden here?

  Jonathan could make out a small window high above, but no Rapunzel. However, her singing was most definitely prevalent. He glanced around the meadow, looking for danger before cautiously slipping from his horse and tying the reins to a nearby branch where it could remain hidden in the foliage. Then, in a flash, he ran to the tower. His heart raced as he slowly made his way around the base, not certain if the witch would appear or not. After several moments when he could clearly hear Rapunzel speaking, he came to the spot directly beneath her, where her voice was the loudest.

  He looked up and could only see the underside of what appeared to be a balcony. It was harder to understand what she was saying, below her as he was, but he could tell she was happy.

  His hammering heart paused a moment at that thought. Thank heavens she was safe and happy—alive!

  Now to rescue her.

  The sing-songy tone of her words made it seem as if Rapunzel was talking to herself. He waited to hear if anyone was responding to her, but could only make out her playful sounds. Slowly, he crept away from underneath the balcony and out more into the meadow. Just a few steps, only enough to see her elbow resting on the curve of the balustrade. Her words were a bit clearer now.

  “. . . If you were a frog, all of this would be much easier for me . . .”

  He tensed and waited to hear someone else speaking, but could not.

  After a few minutes of his own rigid stance, he eventually decided to brave it all and shout up at her.

  Holding his hands to his mouth, he called, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair that I may climb the golden stair!”

  He heard her gasp and watched the movement of her arm before she peered down at him.

  “Jonathan!” she shouted in glee. “It is you. You have come!”

  Her smile, her joy, her laughter. How he had missed her. “Of course I have come, you moppet!” he chuckled. “Did you give up on me, then?”

  “Nearly! Stay right there. Let me get my hair for you!”

  “Your hair?” He laughed as she disappeared from sight. What was she on about? “I was merely jesting, you mad princess,” he shouted up at her.

  All at once, a long, thick braided rope of hair fell from the tower. How in the world? He tugged upon it and saw that it was attached high above him. Good heavens, that was a lot of hair!

  Her bright face popped above. “It is all right now, and secure. You can climb up.”

  “Seriously?” he asked as he tugged upon it again. It seemed secure enough.

  “Of course! Hurry up. I cannot wait to hug you!”

  Jonathan needed no more encouragement than that. In a trice, he found himself up the long mass and standing before her. Without a moment to truly say anything remarkable, she was already in his arms and murmuring her own joys at having him so near.

  It was all incoherent. His heart was hammering so loudly that
nothing was making sense. It was as if he were experiencing a dream of some sort. The long rope of hair, the happy chatter. Could she really be standing in his arms? Could all of this actually be happening? Or would he awaken in a short while to find himself near that brook, exhausted and hoping to achieve the impossible?

  Then a fraction of her babble began to seep through his consciousness.

  “I never ever thought I would see you again. I have been so worried. My mind has been frenzied. What if the witch had destroyed your family too? What if you were turned to stone? What if I was truly all alone forever?”

  Jonathan pulled back just enough to see her face as she prattled on about her fears. My heavens, she was beautiful. More lovely than he had remembered seeing her all those years before. Even with her eyes shimmering in tears, he had never seen a more divine creature in all his life.

  Gently, he brushed a lock of hair from her cheek and leaned down and kissed that ever-moving mouth, hoping to silence her for just a moment.

  Rapunzel gasped and then kissed him back. There was so much more she wished to say, but this—this was a thousand times better!

  When he released her, she could feel the flush on her cheeks and asked, “Why did you do that?” Instantly, she berated herself for being so forward. Clearly she was not rational enough to ask proper questions at this time. She blushed again.

  He grinned and then sighed, his eyes sparkling at her. “I have missed you too.”

  She searched his now stronger, more defined features and smiled. “Good.”

  “Let us not do this again, you being captured and taken away. I do not feel my heart could bear it.”

  “No. Please, let us not.” She could feel her lips quiver as she attempted to hold her smile in place.

  He clung to her then and she eagerly rested her head against his larger chest. He had grown so much, was greatly altered from how she remembered him. Like this, he almost looked like his father, almost resembling a man. “Are you for real?” she whispered, “Is this really happening?”

 

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